A Garden of Persimmons
by GakuenAngel12
Summary: A story of Gin and Rangiku. Their story after the war. Critiques are welcomed!


**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Bleach, _or any of the _Bleach_ characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

Rangiku sat alone in the garden. The trees that Gin had planted when he became Captain of the Third Squad had grown large; the branches were drooping as the heavy orange persimmons grew rampant. There hasn't been anyone out to pick and dry the persimmons since the day he left. No one… not even her…

She had fled Bakuya's mansion as soon as the Shinigami Women's Association meeting was over. Letting her feet guide her, she wasn't surprise when she found herself seated in Gin's garden; it was after all her normal routine. Every Wednesday after the meeting, she would head over to help him. It didn't matter to her that he had a household at his command. Picking and drying persimmons became one of the many joys in which she got to share with him. As she sat alone, watching the movements of the clouds, inhaling the heavy scent of fruit, she held herself very still, as if her movements would determine whether or not he'd come to her. She sensed him this morning. She was so sure she felt his presence in her sleep. She thought she would find him here, but as the time past and the afternoon sun turned to dusk, she knew she was wrong. He was never coming back.

Just as she had given up hope, the sound of footsteps echoed behind her. She saw a shadow fall at her feet but she didn't turn just yet. A part of her was too afraid it was her own imagination playing jokes on her. When seconds turned into minutes and the shadow was still there, she finally allowed herself to turn around and look up at him.

Staring down at her were a pair of icy blue eyes. His ever apparent smile was no where to be seen, and immediately he sat next to her and without preamble he said:

"I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be anywhere near here. But I believe I owe you an explanation. A reason…"

They sat together, silently for several minutes before Rangiku slowly released the breath she held, tilted her head towards the ground, and closed her eyes.

"Your garden's a mess." She said after a moment.

Gin looked at her surprised.

"Well it is," she emphasized.

He smiled faintly. "I think you'll find that dried persimmons are vastly overrated. And truth be told, I haven't had any since Yachiru told me that if I ate too much of it, I might turn the same shade of it." Unconsciously, rubbing a piece of her hair between his fingers, he continued, "Can you imagine having your skin tone match your hair color?"

"Yachiru told you this?"

He looked at her blankly before it dawn on him. "Ah," Gin nodded appreciating the insight, "It explains why she's been coming by daily for her 'charitable collection'."

Another silence.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly amused at himself for having said those words too many times in the last couple of months.

"Gin," Rangiku hesitated to ask the question that she had played in her mind multiple times, "I assume that every time you turned and walked away from me, the sly smiles you gave, the distance you kept and the quick wit… were all so you could defend my honor?"

"I defended your honor rather poorly, as it turned out," he confirmed ruefully as he gazed into the distance.

This made her frown. "I didn't ask you to."

"I know," he whispered as a fat bird landed itself in the water fountain next to them and started to bathe - rather loudly.

"Thank you," she whispered back, half wondering how different things could be had he not done what he did.

Silence ensued once again.

"The tattoos… is that why you like him? Because God knows it's not his intelligence."

Was he teasing her? If so, the attempt was woefully limp and his voice was distracted and hollow.

"Who?" She pretended to not understand who Gin could be referring to before saying, "Perhaps. I mean it certainly does add a kind of sex appeal. And it seems he has them placed in all the right areas."

"Rangiku," Gin interjected with sudden strength and urgency.

He hadn't been listening to her at all. His gaze was aimed at the persimmon trees.

"Yes?" She turned, surprised. Her heart skipped a beat as she looked at his profiled. It had been too long since she's had him this near.

He said nothing for a moment but she knew him well enough by now to know that it was because he was deciding precisely what to say and how to say it.

"So you… do like him then?"

The question surprised her. "Shuuhei?" she asked stupidly, because of-course this was whom he meant. "Yes," she added realizing she sounded hesitant before she quickly added, "Of-course, why wouldn't I?"

Shuuhei was a good man. He respected her and he was loyal to her. And loyalty was hard to find these days especially after everything that she had been through. So yes, should Shuuhei ever breach the topic of them being together, she'd probably tell him yes. He deserved to be happy, and she would be loyal to him. She liked him enough to try to make him happy, but he was not... he just wasn't...

"Because..." Gin stopped again. He pulled in a long breath, almost seeming as though he was trying to find the courage to tell her whatever it was that he wanted to say. Then he exhaled and turned to face her. His eyes, a slit hiding his emotions – that was something he always did when he didn't want her reading him. "Because..." He continued this time looking away from her, " I cannot bear knowing that you'd spend the rest of your days with someone you do not... you do not at least truly like."

Taken aback, Rangiku was surprised that even now he could still astonish her. She felt her finger nails dig into the palms of her hands almost sure she was drawing blood. The pounding of her heart caused her breath to quicken and after what felt like several moments she allowed her eyes to close hiding any emotions Gin could have picked up on.

"Quite simply, you're happiness is essential to my own."

The words swelled in her chest, constricting her breathing, causing her to stare into the dark. She sat there in silence, letting what he said penetrate and saturate her thoughts and then finally when she thought she would go insane, she let out a short and ironic laugh. Oh, this was precious, after everything they've been through together it had come down to this. Gin's fight to stop her tears had led them down this road. From a moment, she couldn't speak at all, she couldn't even look at him instead she lowered her head when her eyes began to burn.

"I do like him," Rangiku whispered at last. It hurt to speak; her throat felt swollen; her words meaningless. She knew it was important for Gin to hear it though, even if she was uncertain. He risked it all to be here with her now. "Truly, I thank you Gin. Thank you."

The last words contained all of her heart, encompassed everything that they had built together. From the moment he saved her to that day not too long ago when she held him in her arms thinking he was all but dead. The words were whispers, inaudible even to her ears.

They sat together in a little pocket of silent amazement, these two people who'd been so certain they'd be together forever when they set out to join the Shinigami Academy. These two people who lived, loved, and grown together without once realizing how fleeting love really was; of how much of a gift they actually had; and of how essential being a part of each other's lives really were, so much so that even breathing came in a distant second. As a result, it was rather humbling that at this particular moment, the realization that the thin line between their total happiness was indistinguishable from complete anguish. She knew he couldn't stay.

Rangiku risked opening her eyes. The black jersey covering her knees were soaked. Stupid tears. It seemed as though she hasn't done anything but cried the last couple of months. Something she had been able to do on her own, a grief she hid from all others, all until now...

It was unfair... grossly unfair that tears could take advantage of the circumstances. Through the moist blur, she noticed as an orange persimmon dropped from one of the many trees, rolling until it finally came to a stop before her. Sticking out her left foot, she pushed it away from her. Stupid Gin Ichimaru, she was certain she would think of him for the rest of her life. Whenever she saw something orange, or round, but mostly whenever she ate dried persimmons.

A tear splashed free from her eyes. She watched as the tear spot dampened and disappeared into the darkness of the cloth covering her knee. She breathed in, squared her shoulders, and rubbed the palm of her hand over the damped area, perhaps in hopes of erasing this moment, this memory.

In the distance, the voices of Ikkaku, Yumichika, and Kira drifted to them, the sound of alarm pierced the air. Voices rushed, personnel gather, an indication that an intruder was on Siereitei grounds was sounded. The whole of the Gotei 13 would come upon Gin and her and their little picture of forged- bliss at any moment, Gin was after all the intruder.

She lifted her head, knowing her eyes were damp and ringed in red and that her face was likely pink from the efforts of trying to suppress the emotions that came rushing at her. She had never been a graceful weeper and this was as stripped bare as Gin would ever see her. He might as well have a good look since it could very well be his last. Raising her hand, she brushed a knuckle to one of her eyes, wiping away at the tears that were now flowing freely.

Gin did look at her. The intensity in his eyes felt as though he was trying to memorized her every feature; the blueness of her own eyes, the fullness of her lips ... it was as if he too knew this moment would have to last him forever as well.

And then he looked away from her, only to stare out at the garden he so carefully crafted, a project he started over a hundred years ago, and despite the fact that anyone could happen upon them at any minute, Gin slowly, purposefully, gently slid his fingers through hers until their hands were woven into a single knot.

Their fingers entwined, their palms pressed together, their hands linking them, turning them into one being, one soul, the way it should have been... the way it was.

He squeezed her hand, an indication of gratitude and apology; it was an acknowledgment of all that there was between them - of all the things that should have been said but never was. It was his reassurance and his farewell to her.

The sound of voices drew near, but still they didn't look at each other. Instead, she imagined that the pounding she felt in her palm was his heart - the uncontrolled thumping pulsated to a rhythm that matched her own. Shaking her head in disbelief, she realized it wasn't his heartbeat that she felt rather it was her senses trying to remember the feel of his touch - the feel of his skin pressed against hers. It was the pounding of her own heart that resonated through her veins, begging him to feel it too.

She allowed her eyes to drift shut again, this time pretending his hand was his body, his long fingers - limbs that matched her own. Yes, she allowed herself to think of him this way because this was the very last time she would touch him, feel him and her imagination was greedy.

Together they sat as though riveted by the scenery of persimmons - but in truth neither one saw a thing. Ikkaku's voice rose up drawing startlingly close. Gin gently untangled his hand from hers, until just the tips of his fingers touched hers, lingering against them for but a brief second; an imitation of a soft kiss.

Then he stood, and without a word, just a single glance back at her, he opened a Senkaimon and disappeared through it. And in a satirical twist of fate - the knowledge of knowing the warmth of his skin against her was more shattering then him letting go.


End file.
